


The Accursed

by greygerbil



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-08 21:37:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14702838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greygerbil/pseuds/greygerbil
Summary: Sir Chris has had a soft spot for court mage Georgi for a while, so he is naturally shocked to find out that he has been beset with a death curse. Unwilling to let the sorcerer fight for his life alone, he joins him on the quest to reverse the effects of the cruel magic spell he has fallen under.





	The Accursed

**Author's Note:**

> Written for YoI Royalty Week, Day 7: Happily Ever After: A fairytale apotheosis. A dream come true. We craft a new beginning today, in our promises and our connection.

“How do you always manage to hurt yourself like this?”

Chris gave a shrug and a cheerful smile as he offered his naked arm to the sorcerer. Angry red marks showed were the poisonous tentacles of the great octopus beast had wrapped around him before he had managed to slash them off with his sword.

“Quests for the king can be dangerous business,” he said.

Georgi made a grudging sound of assent as he sat by the side of the bed onto which he had ushered Chris.

“Did it get you anywhere else?”

“Across the ribs.”

“Take your shirt off,” Georgi demanded.

“Of course, darling, you only had to ask.”

Georgi gave him a look of slightly embarrassed bewilderment. This was so far the only reaction he had ever mustered in response to Chris’ obvious flirting, but Chris thought that it was at least more positive than being sent flying through the window with the help of a wind spell, so there was no reason not to continue trying his luck.

It was not that Chris was less careful in battle than other knights, he imagined, just that in the year he had been here, he had taken every possibly opportunity to claim tasks that were thrown the way of King Victor’s retainers. As a Southerner, he needed to make a name for himself at the court of the King of Winter, and thus he just ended up in more trouble than others who didn’t need to work so hard anymore.

Considering this, the fact that King Victor had a sorcerer living at his court, who had built a whole laboratory in a thatch-roofed building in one of the inner courtyards, would have been massively useful no matter who the mage was. When Chris had first walked through the wild garden of herbs and flowers, all inexplicably blooming in the snow like it was a beautiful summer day, he had expected to find an old, grumpy, bearded man with beady eyes and possibly a few stray feathers stuck in a pointy hat. However, as Chris had pushed the door open to squint into the gloomy room lined with shelves of ominous, oddly-shaped bottles, animal bones and small figurines of unknown gods, dodging a bundle of dry twigs and blossoms hanging from the rafters, he had instead spotted a tall young man leaning over a cauldron. Georgi, the sorcerer, had the lithely muscular build of a bowman, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. His eyes were midnight-coloured and his hair dark, and he liked to underline those features by wearing dramatically billowing black robes embroidered with all manner of adornments as well as jewellery with blue and purple gemstones. He spoke ardently of his arcane arts whenever prompted, had a whole stack of romantic storybooks in a corner of his laboratory, and always listened to Chris’ tales of heroics while he worked on him. All in all, he was much more intriguing and likeable than Chris had first expected.

So staring at him was a good distraction when wounds burned, and, as Chris had found out with some amusement, his healing powers were tactile, which often enough left him leaning with a look of rapt attention over Chris’ body as his hands were running gently along bruised skin. There were certainly worse ways to spend an evening.

“Will you be at the ball next week?” Chris asked, shuddering slightly of the feeling of liquid warmth running into his body through Georgi’s fingertips.

“Courtesy says I should be.”

Georgi liked to play it cool, but Chris knew that he quite enjoyed dancing. However, his luck in love had been rather paltry from what Chris could tell. Most people, in the end, were a bit afraid of Georgi’s powers and it didn’t help that they also found the obvious, earnest passion with which he approached everything in life pretty silly, whereas Chris thought it rather endearing. There had been some serious flirtation with one Lady Anya a few months back – Chris still remembered the tales Georgi would tell of her, voice full of adoration –, but she had decided to go for a knight instead.

“I’ll dance with you if you’re worried to be left out,” Chris promised.

“I would wager you have a line of people you promised that to,” Georgi gave back.

Chris sighed dramatically.

“Only because you don’t give me the time of day.”

There was some truth behind the teasing. He’d had a lot of fun making his way through the beds of both commoners and nobility of the Winter Kingdom, but lately, he found that his thoughts got stuck on the not-so-wicked witch more than usual, sometimes even draping his image over that night’s lover. If Georgi had given him a sign, he would have dropped his other entertainment; but so far, Georgi seemed confused enough by the fact that a man was flirting with him at all (if, Chris had noticed by the colour of his cheeks sometimes, not entirely nonplussed).

The biggest problem, Chris had to admit, was probably that Georgi just didn’t take him serious. Even now he huffed and shook his head. Not that he could be blamed. Chris did not seem like the type to court; until recently, he would have been the first to say so himself. The realisation that he wasn’t just trying to get Georgi to climb into bed with him had creeped on gradually over the months, and he still wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to admit to himself that the desire couldn’t be quenched with a torrid night together. Chris might easily face monsters and men alike, but there were a few things even he was afraid of, and putting his hearts in the hands of another had ended painfully for him before.

“You should be fine now,” Georgi said, experimentally brushing his thumb down a line of Chris’ ribcage where the marks of the tentacle had been before stepping back. “I will give you a potion to drink tonight. It’ll combat all lingering effects of the toxin.”

Thoughtfully, Georgi ran his fingers along a row of small phials on a shelf and picked out a crystal bottle with a bright wooden cork that he handed to Chris.

“Thanks. You should just try kissing it better next time, though.”

Georgi rolled his eyes.

“That would work, you know?” he noted.

“Really?”

“Of course. The magic can be channelled through any part of my body, not just my hands. That’s just the most expedient way to do it.”

“ _Any_ part, huh? Well, that could make healing really interesting...”

A grin spread over Chris’ face. Georgi stared at him for a moment before his eyes widened and the colour rushed into his cheeks.

“It’s an ancient art and it does not deserve to be devalued like that,” he snapped at him, giving Chris a none-too-gentle nudge towards the door.

“I didn’t say anything!” Chris protested, laughing as Georgi pushed him out of his laboratory. Over his shoulder, Chris saw that a smile fighting its way onto Georgi’s lips.

-

“Georgi?”

Chris blinked as his eyes adjusted to the perpetual twilight of Georgi’s workshop. The door had been unlocked, which usually meant Georgi was in, but he didn’t see him lingering over the cauldron, fussing over the exotic plants in the back or even just reading by the shine of the candles. As Chris passed by his work bench, he saw that mortar and pestle laid forgotten like Georgi had left in a rush, crushed leaves drying in the shallow bowl.

He turned the corner made by ceiling-high bookcases and found Georgi kneeling on the ground before a trunk. His robes were untidily discarded in a corner. Instead, he wore leather armour and thick trousers with sturdy riding boots. A sword was girded at his hip, stuck in a scuffed scabbard, and a shield with the poppy emblem of Georgi’s house leaned against the wall.

“What is all this?”

Georgi jumped. He turned around, shoulders sinking in relief when he saw Chris.

“It’s you. Are you alright?”

“Yes, I just wondered why you hadn’t been to supper.”

All of Victor’s close retainers would usually eat together in the great hall, but Georgi’s chair had been empty. However, there was no explanation forthcoming. Brushing past him as soon as he was assured Chris needed no help, Georgi picked up a dagger from a small altar by a shelf and attached it to his belt. If it hadn’t been for the obvious distress on his face, Chris may have had time to linger on the fact how good he looked all dressed up for a fight.

“Did you just have all this lying around or did you raid the armoury?” Chris asked.

Georgi stopped briefly, still fiddling with his belt.

“I’m a knight. Didn’t you know?”

Chris stared at him in surprise, shaking his head.

“I was trained besides Victor for years – we were both squires under Lord Yakov. He was always better than me, though,” Georgi said, pulling a buckle at his side tighter. “But when I found out about my talents, I realised I had another calling.”

“Alright...”

Chris used the chance of Georgi passing by again to catch him by his wrist and make him stop and look at him.

“What are you doing, though?”

“I... have a private matter to attend to.”

Georgi looked off to the side. He looked embarrassed, as well as nervous. Chris tried to imagine what might have called up that combination.

“Are you duelling for someone?

“No! It’s complicated. Chris, I don’t have much time!”

Georgi raised his free hand and pulled off the leather glove he had put on. Chris almost stumbled back a step in fear. From the fingertips down, his skin was ashen-black as burned wood, the rot continuing down into his palm and painting the veins at his wrist grey.

“What the hell happened?!”

Georgi dropped his gaze again. He seemed to take a breath for the first time since Chris had come in here. As the tension his arm dissipated, Chris could feel his hand shake against his fingers where he was still holding his wrist.

“I was cursed by another sorcerer. If I can’t reverse it, I will die.”

The words landed like arrows in Chris’ chest. He looked again at Georgi’s blackened hand.

“What can you do?”

“Every curse has to have a condition, so I could try to fulfil that, but... it’s impossible. However, I know he couldn’t perform a curse like this if he hadn’t tipped into an outside well of magic. The power you need to kill someone in this way is immense.” Georgi sounded morbidly impressed. “As it happens, I know where his favourite spot to syphon energy and tap into the underworld is. If I destroy his catalyst, this curse should break.”

“Why don’t we just go kill him?” Chris asked. He liked to think himself a reasonably peaceful man, but there were certain lines he would not allow to be crossed. Putting out death curses was certainly one of them.

Georgi shook his head.

“He couldn’t perform something of this magnitude again in months, so he is not a priority. His death wouldn’t be enough, either. A curse like this is bound not to the living, but the dead.”

A shiver ran down Chris’ spine. Carefully, he nodded his head.

“Well, you are the expert. Where do we have to go?”

“ _We_ won’t go anywhere. This is my business,” Georgi said. “I’d rather no one else gets hurt.”

 _Oh, for the gods’ sake._ Chris narrowed his eyes at Georgi for a moment before he allowed his expression to mellow into an amicable smile.

“Fine. Then I’ll ride five paces behind you for unrelated reasons.”

Georgi sighed.

“You don’t even know why I was cursed.”

“No, but I’m sure you didn’t do anything that warrants a death sentence. I know you that well. I also know that you told me you focused learning healing spells, so I’ll wager all you have to defend yourself is remains of combat training that you haven’t used in years. I wouldn’t be much of a knight if I let you go alone.”

For a moment, he thought Georgi might start to cry, the way he looked at him, but he quickly turned away.

“You are stubborn,” he admonished. “I don’t have time to argue with you. Meet me at the stables in armour.”

-

Georgi led them out of the city and left the road as soon as possible. The hooves of their horses crunched in the snow as they picked their way through a lightly wooded prong of the forest. Since the sun was sinking red behind the trees already, Georgi had summoned two little balls of fire that flittered before them like friendly fairies illuminating the way.

“I should tell you what happened,” he said, the words curling as clouds before his mouth in the cold air. “Since you insisted on coming.”

“I’d love to know. I’ve yet to see you pick a real fight with anyone.”

Georgi could hold his own in an argument and be as stubborn as a mule if he wanted to, but he was not the type to get into scraps you would utter curses for.

“It happened a few weeks before king consort Yuuri invited you to the winter court. A sorcerer called Andrei Mikhailov petitioned to be taken in by Victor so he could work for him. I had met him before – we used to practice under the same master for a while.”

“An old rivalry?” Chris guessed.

“In a way. He is very good, but he dabbles in disciplines I don’t touch. Necromancy was his speciality – and obviously still is. You can’t put a death curse on someone without it.”

Chris tightened his grip around the reins.

“I told Victor as much and said I don’t believe he is a trustworthy man. That he goes too far for power. Victor rejected him because of that. Andrei found out and I suppose he has spent the last year plotting his revenge for this insult.”

“I’m sure you made the right call. I don’t think I would want someone who plays with corpses to patch me up.”

Georgi remained silent. The forest grew thicker and darker around them.

-

By the time that they bound their horses to two low-hanging branches it was dark night and in the unceasing light of Georgi’s magic flames, Chris saw a tendril of black crawl up a vein in Georgi’s neck like a strangling vine growing under his skin.

Disquieted, he turned his eyes instead to the ruin in front of which Georgi had stopped. The large building must have crumbled ages ago and been built in times immemorial. Already the forest had reclaimed the stones, tall trees growing on top, its bricks beaten round by the weather and statues remaining only as vague shapes that might once have been people. Only one narrow, dark maw opened onto the darkness inside.

“What are we going to find in there?” Chris asked.

“Dead people.” Georgi unsheathed his sword and Chris followed his example. “Considering how old this place is, they’ll just be bones, but you have to hit them until they break apart. Just separating their heads won’t do anything.”

“Charming,” Chris muttered, catching up to Georgi. “Stay behind me.”

“Chris, I...”

“I’ll come save you if you’re in trouble, anyway, so let’s just make this easier on both of us,” Chris said.

Georgi gave him the unhappiest smile Chris had ever seen, full of guilt and anguish, but he slowed his step and let Chris take the lead.

The lights guided their way through a tight passage which ended in a round tomb. Cobwebs hung thick like cloth from the ceiling. There were alcoves in the walls where Chris suspected the dearly departed had once rested. Nothing around them made a sound but for the pebbles that they disturbed with their boots.

“Chris!”

Chris looked wildly around him at the yell, but saw nothing. The way before him was empty, and so was the passage behind.

Georgi slapped him on the shoulder and pointed up. As Chris raised his eyes, he saw that a skeletal hand crawl through a chute in the ceiling and Georgi pushed him forward just in time so that the skeleton didn’t land right on top of them.

The skeletons came out of the ceiling like rats, one after the other, wearing patches of decaying armour and rusty weapons. Chris tried not to look too closely lest the horror would keep him from fighting, but noticed that some of them were missing jaws, finger-bones, and other looser parts, which had obviously fallen victim to the centuries. As he raised his shield to catch a blow, he was shocked at the power with which the spindly bone-creature slammed his axe down on the metal. Georgi had not been lying when he’d said the other sorcerer had to be powerful if he could make this happen.

But what they had in strength, the skeletons lacked in intelligence. With a simple feint, Chris managed to get behind and strike the skeleton above the hip, where there was only the spine to hack through. It broke in the middle and as it still scrabbled for his sword, Christ stepped down to break its elbow.

At the other end of the cave, Georgi was fighting off two skeletons with lances. He was better than Chris would have thought, his sword hand still fast as lightning even if there was an unsure waver to some of his movements. However, he didn’t have the room he needed it and they were cornering him against the wall.

Chris bashed another skeleton out the way and charged forward to wedge the edge of his shield between the ribs of one of the attackers. Once it was seated, he leaned his whole weight down on the metal plane, making the part stuck in the bones crank upwards, separating one half of the skeleton’s ribcage from the other and dislocating the shoulder with a crack.

Georgi took the chance to divert the other lance and deliver a blow that sent the skeleton sprawling. He crushed its hands under his heel, one after the other, and then hacked the spine apart with several overhasty swings of his sword. It wasn’t perfect, but it did the job.

They fought back to back now, careful to remain in the middle of the room, their shields creating half a wall around them. Now that they had gained ground, the flurry of bone limbs was easier to see through. Chris had to block one blow with his arm and caught a blade that burrowed through the gap at the elbow joint of his armour into his flesh, but by the time they were surrounded only be twitching bones, that was all the blood he had shed.

“Good work for a potion-maker,” Chris said, turning to Georgi with a grin, which died as soon as it had come as saw Georgi’s face close-up. Half his face looked burned black as the tendrils under his skin spread and the white of one eye had darkened to a dull grey, the iris so black it matched the pupil.

“What?” Georgi asked.

“The... curse. It got to your face.”

“Exertion makes it go faster – like poison.” Georgi looked down at his elbow. “You’re hurt. Let me-”

“Nevermind that now,” Chris said, grabbing Georgi by his arm. “Let’s go before it eats you whole!”

They pushed on through another tunnel, the patter of struggling bone parts sounding behind them. Finally, the path opened up into a large hall, which was partially caved in. Moonlight fell past tree roots through gaps in the ceiling.

Georgi stepped forward, first with purpose, but then slowing.

“What now?” Chris asked.

“It’s... not here.” Georgi’s voice shook. “He installed a catalyst here, but it’s gone.”

“Then what-”

Chris was interrupted by a flicker of shadow that suddenly appeared before Georgi. It had the shape of a man. Chris thought he saw him smiling and gripped his sword tighter.

“No,” Georgi said, holding out a hand. “This is just an illusion. A message. He’s not here.”

“I had a feeling you would come, Georgi,” the man said. His voice was hollow like an echo. “It’s just like you to try and take the power I worked hard for instead of facing the curse head-on. Do you think I would keep using a place you knew of? I’m not as stupid as you. And if you had ever put your head down and studied the arts of the dead, you would realise you need fresh blood for this curse.” The man walked past Georgi, through Georgi. “You were always jealous. First of Victor, then of me. No surprise you couldn’t bear to have me at court. Everyone would have seen that the only way you look like a capable sorcerer is if you have no competition.” The shadow cocked his head. “Well, perhaps if you were a better man, it would be easier for you to fulfil the condition. People might actually like you. But as it is, I suppose this is goodbye.”

Like smoke in the wind, the shadow dispersed. Georgi stood motionless in the middle of the room. Silence fell. Even the noise of the bones had ceased.

“If this isn’t it, he must have another power source, right?” Chris tried. “Maybe we can find it.”

“If he says fresh blood... then he didn’t use an old grave. He killed someone to make it work,” Georgi said quietly, almost incredulously. “I barely have tonight. It’s a single body that could be anywhere in this country. We will never find it in time.”

Chris wanted to protest, but had no arguments to make because Georgi was right. He let his sword sink. The tip dragged on the ground.

“Come,” Georgi said.

-

Georgi sat down in the high grass and damp leaves before the crypt without a word and Chris joined him. In the light of the magic fire now hovering close to Georgi’s shoulder, he looked even more gruesome. He was crying; on one side, the tears looked like tar. Chris heart felt like it was going to burst. After a moment, Georgi reached over. His finger burrowed between the plates of Chris armour and through the torn sleeve, touching the bloody cut to heal it. His magic felt like an early spring breeze on Chris’ skin, nowhere as warm as it usually was.

“Maybe Andrei is right,” Georgi said, after looking into the magic flames for a moment.

“What are you talking about?”

“I mean, I also draw power from dead things. Animals, plants... I don’t know. Perhaps, in the end, it makes no difference? He could be right. I tell myself I was judging his character, but who knows?” he said bitterly. “Maybe I _was_ only jealous and that’s why I didn’t want him at court. I always wanted to be better than Victor, too, after all.”

Chris reached forward and grabbed Georgi’s chin, roughly turning his head to him.

“Georgi, you just told me he killed someone to kill you. He’s a murderer. You were right about him.”

Georgi looked at him out of mismatched eyes for a moment.

“He is dangerous,” he admitted, finally. “You have to tell Victor to go after him, Chris. When I die...”

“Don’t say that,” Chris pleaded.

Georgi winced. “Christophe, this is the only way this will end. I told you, we won’t find that body in time.”

His mind racing, Chris grasped on to the last straw he could find.

“You said the curse has a condition. What is it?”

“Mockery is what it is,” Georgi muttered darkly.

“Georgi!”

He grabbed his shoulders and shook him, desperate to get a proper answer out of him. Georgi lifted his gaze up to the sky.

“It’s true love’s kiss,” Georgi said. “Which Andrei knows I won’t get.”

Chris stared at Georgi for a moment, trying not to laugh incredulously. What a twisted soul this Andrei had to be to put such a romantic seal on a curse meant to kill. It was a classic, of course; Chris had read so many tales on it. You usually needed a valiant prince to save the poor cursed victim and get a shared happily ever after, not a roaming knight who had slept with half the bar wenches and sailors in the city in an attempt to distract himself from the man he really wanted. That was all he could offer Georgi, though; but he would offer it to him wholly if he’d only take it. Would his impure, confused heart be enough to burn through the malice of such a spell?

He would never know if he didn’t try.

Chris moved his hands up, until they were cupping Georgi’s face, and pulled him in. Georgi sat still with shock as their lips met. Then, a full-body shiver went through him. His hands clung painfully hard to Chris’ shoulders. When Chris parted, he saw the black in his face recede, the colour returning to his eye and the red to his cheeks. He stared speechlessly at Chris, who was similarly at a loss for words.

“Maybe you could have led with that,” Chris managed, finally, summoning a smile, “before we stumbled into a tomb full of living skeletons.”

“I don’t understand,” Georgi said. “I thought you were just joking. You flirt with _everyone_.”

“I think in the beginning I was just joking,” Chris admitted. “And then I ended up with broken bones in your place twice a week and... I started to get to know you.”

Georgi looked at him for a long moment before he let out a shuddering breath and allowed his forehead to drop against Chris’ shoulder. Chris clasped him in his arms.

“You should have let me know. I... liked it when you came by.”

Chris was sure Georgi could feel his heart thumping even through his metal chest plate.

“I hadn’t thought of what to say yet! It mattered, alright?” he defended himself. “I think we’re even now that you pulled me through that death trap when I could have solved your problem before we left the castle.”

Georgi chuckled a little bit. When he sat up, however, his gaze was soft and he grasped Chris’ hand in his own.

“You saved my life.”

“Well, I told you it might help if I came along, didn’t I?” Chris said, squeezing his fingers. “Now, let’s leave this damned ruin behind and tell Victor what happened. And then we’ll go to your place and I make sure the curse is all gone. I’m sure I can do better than a kiss.”


End file.
